Coda
by Mr Thin
Summary: An epilogue to Entry ###### from Marble Hornets. Totheark contacts Jay via Twitter with some important information, moving things out of the realm of games and into action.
1. Twitter Log 1

**totheark** marblehornets youcannever get out

7:06 PM Mar 6th via web

**marblehornets** totheark Leave me alone. I'm done with this.

12:17 PM Mar 7th via web

**totheark **marblehornets notnearly done yet

10:21 PM Mar 7th via web

**marblehornets** totheark What do you want from me?

9:12 AM Mar 8th via web

**totheark** information marblehornets

2:04 PM Mar 8th via web

**marblehornets** totheark I don't have anything to give you even if I wanted to.

2:55 PM Mar 8th via web

**totheark** marblehornets don't kid yourself

3:38 PM Mar 8th via web

**totheark** halftruths found marblehornets

3:45 PM Mar 8th via web

**marblehornets** totheark Okay, what is it that you think I know.

5:30 PM Mar 8th via web

**totheark** marblehornets missingpieces return totheboard

7:01 PM Mar 8th via web

**marblehornets** totheark If you want answers you're going to have to find them yourself. I'm not going investigating again.

10:39 PM Mar 8th via web

**totheark** marblehornets bloodisthickerthanwater

11:11 PM Mar 8th via web

**totheark** but not so reliable marblehornets

11:15 PM Mar 8th via web

**marblehornets** totheark You said you were done playing games.

11:41 PM Mar 8th via web

**totheark** marblehornets notagame

11:50 PM Mar 8th via web

**totheark** marblehornets anonymous tip: starbucks on huntley and stevenson noon tomorrow bethere

11:59 PM Mar 8th via web


	2. 12:00 PM Mar 9th

It was a grey day. Not dark a dark day, or an especially foreboding one, but the chill and the gloom were not very encouraging. As Jay pulled into the parking lot of the generic coffee shop, he could see nothing to dispel his growing anxiety. There were no tall and lanky suits leaning out of doorways or standing under lamp poles to watch him, but then again, he didn't have much reason to trust what he saw anymore. The anonymous tip that he'd gotten had brought him here. He didn't want to be here, but then again, he didn't know if he had any other option. If nothing else, he could end this definitively.

Looking through the wide glass windows of the shop yielded him no information. He glanced down at his dash, noted the time. 11:47 AM. Maybe if he sat in his idling car for the next thirteen minutes, he could get the jump on his tipster... it was safer in here, anyways. He considered this for some time, sitting and rapping his fingers on the steering wheel nervously as his head darted around in search of suspect faces, but his anxiety built alongside the clock's march towards noon.

Finally, with an exasperated sigh, he pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped out of the car. Immediately he felt more vulnerable. Casting wary looks over either shoulder, he hurried for the glass doors of the shop, and felt temporary relief wash over him as he slipped inside. The smell of roasting coffee washed over him, leaving him feeling mildly nauseated. He scanned the people standing in the line directly ahead of him, then the heads seated at various tables. He froze, then, feeling his heart leap to his throat, as he spotted a familiar face.

From the back of the shop, Tim stared back. They exchanged looks, and the darker haired man dropped his gaze back to the table. He pointedly ignored Jay as he took a bite of sandwich, deliberately looking elsewhere. He didn't seem to want to acknowledge Jay outright.

Someone jostled Jay on their way in through the door he was blocking, jerking him out of his shock. He shuffled out of the entrance, but no further.

Tim. It made sense... no, it made no sense at all, but all the clues had been there. Still, Jay couldn't shake his shock at being confronted with a familiar face.

He balled his fists to stop his hands from shaking and finally moved forward. Answers were so close. With a growing sense of surreality, the cadence of his steps made strange by his warring reluctance and eagerness, he moved to Tim's table and took the other chair there. He stared at the other man as Tim ate.

Behind the cover of lunch, Tim was anything but relaxed. He didn't look at Jay, methodically doing away with his sandwich, which he was holding just slightly too tightly. His tension mirrored Jay's own, and Jay frowned, glancing at the water bottle half-full on the table, then to the man again, to his jacket. Tim! How could he not have figured it out weeks ago?

He had to say something. Jay swallowed, cleared his throat, feeling at a loss, and finally, "you." He winced, gritted his teeth, and amended, "why are you doing this?" He watched as Tim glanced up, casting him a harried look. He didn't look entirely well, but then again, neither did Jay at this point.

Setting the remainder of his lunch back in the container, Tim didn't immediately reply. It was long past the time for games and lies, but it was obvious that he didn't want to -- or perhaps_ couldn't_ -- tell Jay everything. He reached for the water bottle, twisting the cap half off, then back on again. Fidgeting, buying time. "You could take a guess," he eventually replied, sardonic. His eyes never landed on Jay, instead always looking down at his food, or out across the shop's customers.

The evasiveness drew another frown from Jay. He didn't know what he had been expecting -- hopes aside, he had to concede that he hadn't really expected 'totheark' to explain everything and answer all of his questions. But Tim seemed like he wanted to be here about as much as Jay did. Why would he bring him here just to keep avoiding straight answers? Jay fixed his eyes on Tim and he said, "no I couldn't." He chewed on the inside of his lip. "You've done nothing but jerk me around this whole time. I don't even know what you want. You broke into my house!" Jay blurted out, realizing as he said it that it was an even more uncomfortable memory now that he knew just who it was who had been sitting on his dresser, kicking his feet like a psychotic little kid in a mask.

"You didn't leave me much of a choice!" Tim retorted, smacking the water bottle back down on the table. Looking over Jay's shoulder, then visibly forcing himself to stay calm, he folded his elbows under his shoulders as he leaned forward to glare at the other man, eye to eye. He lowered his voice, adding, "you're, uh, really kind of slow, aren't you?" Jay opened his mouth to protest as he leaned back, trying instinctively to put some more space between himself and the other man. He didn't manage much more than a delayed objection before the darker haired man bulldozed forward. "Your cellphone, you left your call history in it."

Jay's blood turned icy. "You went through my--" He cut himself off before his voice could break, and swallowed hard. There was no use asking the question on the tip of his tongue. Either Tim suspected and was bluffing, or he had gone through Jay's phone's history (broken into his house again!) and he already knew. Either way, nothing Jay could say would do any good.

Feeling a rising sense of panic, he shoved himself to his feet, eliciting a horrible screeching noise as his chair's feet skidded across the polished concrete floor. He turned and hurried for the door, fumbling for his keys, needing to get out of there. Tim didn't make a move to stop him, or to follow him. He did grab his water bottle, half-crushing it as he fumbled the lid off. Taking a swig kept him from cursing; he was getting enough attention from other customers as it was.


	3. 12:09 PM Mar 9th

He slammed the car door behind him and drew in a deep breath, holding it as his keys skittered for purchase in the ignition. The relative safety of the car didn't seem so safe anymore, even as the ignition took and the engine growled to life. So much for answers! Looking at his knuckles, white on the steering wheel, he let that breath out explosively and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain some sense of calm.

Having a face to the name of the person who had been hounding him -- well, it turned everything on its head. It was a relief, but it wasn't. Everything that had happened to him, exploring the house, whatever the hell had happened in that terrifying basement, it had all been unreal, surreal. It had been easy, in a way, to dissociate it from the reality of life, and that had somehow made all the insanity bearable. Now there was a face, a face he knew, and suddenly everything had snapped into a much harder, colder sense of urgency. Tim! What did he want?

Jay groped in his pocket for his phone and pulled it out as his engine idled. He flipped it open and stared at the luminescent screen. Actually, he _did_ have an idea of what 'totheark' had been after, if Tim's one plain statement had been any indication. He snapped the phone shut again and pulled out of the Starbucks parking lot.

Not until Jay's car had pulled onto the road did Tim even exit the shop. He had a fairly good idea of where the frightened man was going, after all, so there was no need to rush. In the past few months, he'd had time to push Jay to his limits, to see how much it took before Jay up and fled... for the time being, it seemed to be in both of their best interests if Tim gave the other man the illusion of control, of space.

He wandered over to his own car as he scanned his surroundings, forcing himself not to focus on any dark shadows or signs. Thinking too hard about the Slender Man had the unfortunate effect of attracting his attention. It was hard not to pick suspicious shapes out of the corners of his eyes, but he'd learned to make do by separating what he saw from what he thought. There were other aids, of course, but good old fashioned double-think had been his first real success in warding off the Slender Man, at least to the point that he'd been able to survive until now.

Even as he settled in the driver's seat and pulled the door shut, he was thinking about the next move. It would take Jay, what, fifteen minutes? Twenty? to get back to his house. Would he hole up again? Tim didn't think he would, and was ihoping/i that he wouldn't, in all truth. This next phase relied on Jay being frightened and angry enough to think that leaving his home was a good idea. In fact, the reason that Tim had lured him out for a face to face chat had been to better gage exactly where Jay stood.

The engine turned, car rattling to life, and Tim's expression sobered as he felt a surge of disorientation, a scratchy sensation from behind his eyes. Trying to think of nothing at all, his hand lingered slowly over to the glove compartment, popped it open, and dug around for the pill case there.

He fished a capsule out and popped it, digging around the pile of empty bottles on the passenger-side floor for one that still contained water, and swigged the stale remainder from one he found to be half full. Eyes on the dash, he counted the ticks on the speedometer as he waited for the sensation to fade. Focusing on minute details, he found, helped to fight the urge to relax and forget.

A minute flicked over on his clock, and he shook his head to help clear it. He felt pleased -- he hadn't lost a single minute.

Cranking on the radio, he surfed through static before pulling out of the parking lot and inevitably following Jay's lead.


End file.
